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I no longer recognise my country.



  1. CountingCats says:

    Britain is a police state, these guys make it up as they go along.

    All down to New Labour thugs.

  2. At what stage did the police (and indeed the Government) lose sight of the fact that they work for us and are subject to us, and that we are their masters, not mere supplicants at their throne?

    To the Tower with whole treacherous, mendacious lot of them?

  3. El Draque says:

    It’s going to take a revolution, isn’t it?

  4. RAB says:

    Thanks for the H/T check guys, always appreciated.

    I have recounted this story before, but I think it worth repeating in this context.
    It shows how far we have gone down the road to servitude to the State.

    We now have, in addition to the regular police, a whole lot of cut price Community Police, which we disparagingly call Plastic Plods.

    They are not empowered to actually arrest you on their own apparently, even though when I was taught Law, I was taught that any citizen could make an arrest in the right circumstances (try this now and you are likely to be done for false imprisonment or kidnap ).

    Any way my friend Kev, a big ex rugby player was heading for his favorite cafe in Whiteladies road, here in Bristol, on his mountain bike.
    He was a bit late and in a hurry and was riding on the pavement. Every cyclist does it these days, when he ran into a Plastic Plod. Not literally you understand.

    So the PP stops him and he is very polite and contrite, very sorry Officer etc.
    But the PP decides to get self righteous and grabs hold of his handlebars and proceeds to give him a lecture.

    Well Kev was getting a bit pissed off after a bit and asked the PP to let go of his handlebars. The PP wouldnt.

    Kev gently tried to shove him away, and the PP went berzerk!

    He had is radio out in a flash, screaming code words into it and “Officer under attack”.
    Well Kev is still standing there bemused by this little runt of a cunt, when he starts to hear police sirens coming their way.

    Hmm thinks Kev. The shove is technically an assault, this is going to completely waste my day trying to explain that the PP is an over officious shithead, so he jumps on his bike and legs it.
    Now Whiteladies road goes all the way down from the famous Clifton Downs to the floating harbour in Bristol via Park Street, one of the busiest shopping streets in Bristol. The sound of the sirens is getting closer.
    Next thing he knows a proper policeman has lept off the pavement trying to knock him off the bike. The policeman misses and Kev just speeds up and keeps going downhill.
    When he was almost at the bottom of Park street he can see not one but four police cars after him. One pulls alongside and the Officer in the car is screaming at him to ” Get off that bike you fucking bastard” Not likely!
    What to do now Kev thinks. They are bound to catch me soon.
    Well at the bottom a Park st is College Green a big bow shaped piece of grass infront of the Bristol Council headquarters. So he decides to cut across the grass, because the cars cant follow and it will take them a while to catch up going round the road.
    Down there next to the harbour and the Cathedral is the central library. So he makes it to the library and runs inside well ahead of the police cars following.
    He goes straight to the toilets and starts reversing some of his articles of clothing.
    He had to ditch his hat which was very distinctive and very expensive (he was well pissed off about that) then went back to the main library and pretended to be browsing the books.
    Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, 5 police storm into the building and search the place for him. He keeps his cool and they find his hat, but eventually leave empty handed.
    When he thinks it safe, he rings a friend on his mobile to come pick him up.

    And this folks all started from the heinous crime of riding a bike on the pavement and a gentle shove to a shithead who was exceeding his authority.

    Are there any countries out there that would like to offer a fairly well heeled old git, his wife and dog, asylum? Northern Cyprus or Sri Lanka perhaps?
    Because I am getting very pissed off with the way things are going here!

  5. alison says:

    At what stage did the police (and indeed the Government) lose sight of the fact that they work for us and are subject to us, and that we are their masters, not mere supplicants at their throne?

    Probably when freedom to protest became freedom to sabotage, riot, destroy, proffer hatred, incite and generally act like cunts.

  6. RAB says:

    I’m afraid that stage was reached a long long time ago Alison.Even when those at the top were first class people.

    When I was 15 (I am 57 now) I went on an anti Apartheid march in Cardiff with that orange twat Peter Hain. Another anecdote coming up, sorry folks ;-)

    Well it was against the South African rugby tour. They were playing Wales at the Arms Park, and it was very peaceful and good humoured.

    Anyway I was chatting to this Irish bloke as we were marching and chanting, as you do.He seemed a nice man, brought the conversation around to Irish politics, but as I knew next to nothing about it at that age, wasn’t getting anywhere with me and just gave me a few pamphlets to read.I stuffed them in my bag and thought no more about it
    I shoved them in my bag and thought no more about it.

    Well it just so happens that one of my parents closest friends was the head of the South Wales CID. He was a neighbour of ours and my mum and I were shopping in downtown Cardiff a week or so later.
    Well it was mum’s habit to pop into the central police headquarters for a chat and a cup of tea with him. You couldn’t do that now of course.

    While we were having tea one of his officers popped his head round the door and said the screening room is now ready Sir.

    Why dont we take our tea and watch a film, you may find this interesting Richard, as I know you were on the March the other week.

    Well the film was of police footage of the march.
    There was I, just three rows back from the front, chatting to the Irish bloke.

    Well they had identified this man as an Irish activist/terrorist who was on the march looking for any fellow travellers they could pick up. He couldn’t give a fuck about the cause we were marching for.

    I was gently questioned as to what had been said, and having a good memory I recounted it.

    So yes, even back in the sixties we were being monitored and filmed, but back then it was to protect us not harrass us.

    Now they have completely lost the plot.
    All of us are enemies of the State now!
    Until proven otherwise.

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